Almost everyone in the Jackson community were in attendance at the barn dance tonight. Children of all ages were playing and running around the town hall and the streets of Jackson, the crisp autumn air filled with their laughter and the sound of country music playing. The adults danced in pairs on the hardwood floor space of the town hall as a small group of community members with different musical instruments played country tunes. Others stood around the floor drinking cider and beer and talking about the upcoming harvest, how mild the weather had been lately, and how Jackson needed more reasons to celebrate like this more often. It was 8pm and the festive spirit of the night had just begun.
You sat at one of the round tables dotted around the town hall with a glass of punch in your hand, your eyes following the couples gliding around the dance floor. The men and women looked so cheerful as they moved in sync to the music, their actions appearing automatic and effortless, the joy in their smiles and laughs undeniably infectious to the other town folk who were watching from the sidelines. Most of them were married couples but some of them were domestic partners, ranging in age from late teenagers right up to the most senior members of the community.
The courtship and reproductive aspects of the circle of life were crucial points of interest for many people in Jackson. Despite the hardships of the reality of the end of the world, life within the walls of the Jackson commune were quite simple; everyone was assigned jobs to ensure the town functioned successfully, people dated and married and had children, and everyone had a role to fulfil regardless of their skill level. As a young woman, your own dreams and hopes for the future were quite traditional; you wanted a life partner who would compliment you perfectly, someone to have children with and grow old with. Your desires were modelled on your own parents relationship and deep down in your heart, losing them at 12 years of age left you with a fear of abandonment and the need for the security of a family of your own. The yearning for this had grown vehemently recently, perhaps punctuated by some of the milestones achieved within your friendship circle - an engagement, a wedding, a new baby.
Your smile, small and sad, curls against the lip of the glass as you take a sip of punch. You had been asked to dance a few times and you enjoyed the company of your girlfriends, but there was only one person you wanted to dance with, and he was never going to indulge you in that desire.
He wasn't at the dance tonight. He hated going to events like the barn dances. He hated socialising any more than he had to, evident in the way he carried himself during day to day life living in Jackson; stalking wordlessly to and from his patrolling shifts and eating times at the mess hall, a scowl permanently etched on his face. Joel Miller arrived in Jackson several years ago and had never made any close friends or spoke much to anyone. His brother Tommy and his daughter, Ellie, seemed to be the only people who knew Joel well. You did, too, although you knew a different Joel to the one anyone else did. And you knew Joel wouldn't be at the dance tonight, nor would he be overly happy that you were there.
Noting the time on the large clock perched on the hall wall, you finished the rest of your punch and stood up to leave the dance. It really was so much fun to chat with other towns people and so entertaining to watch the others dance, but Joel would be waiting for you. Mumbling apologies and half hearted excuses of feeling tired to your friends, you slipped out of the town hall and trekked to Joel's house under the cloak of the night sky, making sure to avoid the main street and weave through the back yards lest someone see you.
When you approached the side door of his house, your heart was thumping with anticipation in your chest, just as it always did when you met up with him in the clandestine meetings that had been happening now for the past 8 months. It was a secret and always had been. You did not want it to be, though - your feelings for him ran deep in your heart and soul, and truthfully you had been in love with him for since the first night you stumbled into his home and and allowed him to devour you. You never voiced these feelings because you knew Joel never wanted a relationship, never wanted anything official, although your affection for him was clear. Clear in the way you cuddled up to him after sex, how you baked muffins and banana bread for he and Ellie, how you buried your face in his chest after he returned from a rough patrol shift, the mesmerised, pained look in your eyes when he pounded into you. You wore your heart on your sleeve and Joel did not acknowledge it, somehow ignoring the depth of your affection with mumbles and pats on the head and gruff cuddles. Your heart was constantly on the verge of breaking, but you couldn't help being tied to him, your body and brain both addicted to him in the alluring and unexplainable haze of chemical, animalistic attraction, the innate need to be protected and fucked and owned by an older, domineering man. If only you could've chosen one more kinder than Joel Miller.
Just a few days earlier you had made the decision that tonight would be the night you confess your feelings to him. Tonight would be when you laid all your cards on the table and ask Joel to be with you, officially. Doing your best to swallow the anxiety rising in your chest, you stood infront of his door and paused for a minute to take some deep breaths, then you rapped on his door lightly. You only waited a few moments before he cracked it open for you to slip inside. You shut the door behind you and followed him into the living room, the space dark except for the glow of dull light emanating from a lamp beside his armchair, a glass of whiskey sitting on-top of a small table beside it. You stood in the middle of the living room and waited for Joel to face you, your hands clasped infront of you shyly, secretly hoping he would compliment your dress and the flower tied in your hair.
Joel picked up his glass and took a shot of the whiskey, placed it back down and then turned to look at you. He was in his usual attire of jeans and a flannel shirt, and from the small distance between you, you could already smell the faint scent of mahogany and sandalwood mixed with his natural smell. The curls of his dark salt and pepper hair sat atop his head like a crown, the expression on his tanned face not betraying any hint of emotion, the steady gaze of dark brown eyes travelling up and down your body making you shiver.
"Hi," you smiled at him. Joel's eyes met yours and he took a few steps forward to close the gap between you, his figure towering over you. You bit your lip as you studied his handsome face, admiring the patchy growth of his beard and the masculine square of his jaw. He really was so handsome.
"Hey, babydoll," Joel murmured in his Texan drawl, a smirk forming on his lips as his large hands reached out to grab ahold of your hips. They moved up your waist and back down again as he stared into your eyes, the spark of lust already evident in his orbs.
"I went to the dance," you said quietly, your arms moved upward to wrap around his neck. He hummed in response and you felt his hands trail up to your breasts, the callouses on his palms rough against the lace trimming of your dress. They settled on the plush of your cleavage and began kneading there, making you moan lowly. Joel leaned down and kissed your lips softly for a moment, the taste of whiskey and an underlying sweetness meeting your tongue as his slipped into your mouth. You stood on your tiptoes and tightened your hold around his neck, encouraging the kiss to deepen. One of Joel's hands shifted around to your back and down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze and pulling you closer to his body. You could feel his hardness against you.
"Joel," you gasped as you pulled away from the kiss. "I missed you." Joel didn't respond, instead he just roughly pulled one of the straps of your dress off your shoulder, grabbing your bare breast in his big hand and groaning at the softness of your skin. His other hand kept a firm hold of your ass cheek, his grip leaving you without any strength to move. "I...I missed you there, at the dance." You moaned as he bent down to kiss your neck, tilting your head to the side to allow him better access. You ran your fingers through his hair and let yourself be enveloped in his arms, your body surrendering to the familiar dance of seduction that Joel would tangle you in, close to feeling totally helpless to the carnal rapture of attraction between you both. When he still remained silent, his mouth working gentle bites all over your neck, you tried to engage him again. "Joel, I said I missed you."
"Missed you too, sugar," Joel mumbled against your throat. He began to carefully move backwards toward the armchair, his hands still gripping your breast and ass possessively, shifting you with him. He sat down on the chair with an unceremonious thud that pulled you onto his lap to straddle him, making you squeak in surprise. Joel pushed you down to grind his erection against your crotch, his mouth still attached to your neck but now sucking on your delicate skin. You found yourself rocking against him, your fingers still tangled in his curls, now faintly aware of the wetness beginning to pool in your underwear. The skirt of your dress had bunched up to your thighs and had made it easy for Joel's hand to slip under the material and find the bare flesh of your ass. He squeezed it before giving it a firm smack.
"Joel," you whimpered. "Please stop for a moment." He detached from your neck and leaned back in the chair so you could see the drunk look of lust hooding his brown eyes. You wanted to initiate the discussion before becoming entwined in his web, before you were too distracted by his skilled fingers and warm mouth and the deliciousness of his cock. It was so difficult to shift your focus from just how handsome he looked, but you had to do this now. You couldn't wait any longer. You sat up straight in his lap, one leg kneeling on either side of Joel's thighs, your core nestled directly over the erection straining behind his jeans. Joel brushed your nipple gently with the pad of his thumb as he stared at you.
"What is it?" He murmured without a trace of concern in his tone. Taking a breath, you sighed and idly toyed with the curls on the nape of his neck, working up the courage to formulate an opening dialogue.
"Okay, so...." You started softly, making a point to keep your eyes fixed on his. "Uhm, so...Cassie is getting married soon, right?"
Cassie was one of your best friends. Joel gave a small nod to indicate he was listening. His hand was still caressing your ass, the other was still cupping your breast.
"Yeah, well, I just...really I was wanting...," you stumbled over your words, the beating of your heart thudding in your ears now. "I wanted to ask you to go to the wedding with me. As my date." You blurted out the last part and pressed your lips shut tightly, eyebrows knitting together worriedly in anticipation of his reaction. Joel rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh.
"I never go to those kinda things, you know that." Joel muttered, pulling his hands away from your body.
"I know, but--"
"They're your friends, not mine." He argued. "Why would I go?"
"Because the guests bring a date with them, to enjoy the occasion," you tried to speak confidently but there was a faint warble in your voice. "Like their boyfriend or girlfriend, or whatever....so I wanted to ask you."
Joel ran a hand over his beard, sighing once more. "Sugar, I hate that shit, dressin' up and bein' around a buncha people I don't give a fuck about," he grumbled.
"But they are my friends," you frowned. "And they mean so much to me. And well, I want you to meet them. I want you to come with me."
Joel looked at you and shook his head a little. Tears began to well in your eyes.
"Joel, I...I really like you," you whispered.
"I like you too, sugar," he said smoothly. His hands slid under your dress and up to the top of your thighs, his thumbs sitting at the edge of your panty line. "Like these sexy legs, your sweet little pussy."
He wasn't paying attention. He was distracting you. No, you have to do this now, no more sex, no more anything until you get it out. You retracted your arms and pushed away from him to stand up off his lap. You hurriedly fixed the strap of your dress back up over your shoulder and took a few steps back, needing distance between you in order to collect your thoughts. Joel watched you from his relaxed position on the armchair, a slight scowl etched on his face now.
"Joel," you sighed, looking at him with imploring eyes. Your fingers twisted together nervously. "I don't just like you. I...I love you. I want to be with you. For real. Like partners." You chewed your bottom lip while desperately awaiting his response.
Joel raised his eyebrows as if your confession were totally unexpected. And then, in a way that felt like a knife slicing into your heart, he slowly shook his head and exhaled a mirthless chuckle. "Partner? Babydoll, I think you're confused about what this is."
Tears began to well in your eyes and slowly trickle down your cheeks.
"You are mine." Joel said in an eerily calm voice as he leaned forward in his chair. "Mine for me to fuck whenever I want and however I want. But I ain't ever gonna walk down the fuckin' street holdin' your hand. I ain't soft like these boys runnin' around after you and your little slut friends."
You can't help the small, pitiful sob that escapes your lips, or the tears that pour from your eyes and blur your vision. Joel stood up and stepped over to you, reaching out to seize your upper arm tightly. The sudden contact makes you gasp.
He gazed down at you with steely dark brown eyes. "You knew the deal from the get go, baby. Always knew I ain't that type'a man. But you just kept comin' back to get fucked again and again."
"Let me go," you sobbed and tried to squirm out of Joel's bruising grip. "You're hurting me."
"Don't you like that, baby? Thought you liked it when I hurt ya," Joel snarled, momentarily squeezing your arm before releasing you with a force that makes you stumble backwards.
"Why-why do you have to be so...so mean?" You spit out, voice choked with emotion. Joel turned back to pick up his whiskey glass and finish the remaining alcohol. You wiped away your tears with the back of your shaky hand, feeling pathetic and small as you sniffle.
"Thought you said you love me," Joel said gruffly. He slammed the glass on the table and turned back to you, his eyes firey as they bore into you. You instantly recognised the cruel passion shining in them, a look you have seen many times, one that sends shivers up your spine with both excitement and fear, one that makes you wet yet causes a knot of apprehension in your stomach at the same time.
"I do," you replied in a small voice. You shrink back as Joel stepped closer, his hands balling into fists by his sides.
"Get on your knees," Joel said lowly. His penetrating gaze was intimidating and the tick in his jaw told you he was holding back on unleashing the rage of emotion that swirled inside of him.
"What?" You whispered back, your mind too muddled to comprehend what exactly he was asking for.
"You heard me." Joel whispered back bitterly. "If you love me, you'll do as I say. So get on your fuckin' knees. Now."
You bowed your head and let more tears fall. You do love Joel, and while you had no idea what reaction you were expecting from him, his words were breaking your heart. You knew Joel could be harsh, seemingly heartless at times, and he could be downright sadistic during sex. But the level of Joel's ruthlessness in this moment wounded you deeply, in such a way that was profound and unprecedented in your relationship. You suddenly felt a weariness pass over you, the frustration and dejection beginning to dissolve. You loved him but you were so tired; of the aching left inside your soul after your nights together, of pretending the unrequited affection didn't sting, of allowing your body to be devoured, manipulated and abused in exchange for meagre crumbs of attention.
"No," you said, voice thick from your tears, your head still down. "I won't."
"What'd you say?" Joel grabbed your wrist and gave you a sharp tug toward him. "Fuckin' look at me when I'm talkin' to you." You peered up at him from under your long lashes, feeling a renewed determination stir inside your chest. You lifted your chin and dated to stare back at him, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat.
"I said no, Joel."
Joel's brows furrowed at the audacity of your refusal, a flash of confusion passing over his features before being replaced with his usual scowl of displeasure. You both gazed into each other's eyes in tense silence for a few moments, as if challenging the other to initiate the next move. Joel's thick fingers remained wrapped around your wrist as you both stood still. The beat of your heart seemed distractingly loud in your ears and you hoped he couldn't hear it. You began to open your mouth but Joel cut you off.
"Go." He whispered through gritted teeth.
"What?" You asked quietly.
"Get outta here," he muttered, dropping your wrist and taking a step back from you. He jammed his hands into his pockets and gave a minute shake of his head. You looked at him sadly, uncertain of whether to obey him or stay and try to resolve this, salvage whatever was left of the ruins between you, this absolute wreck of dysfunctional intimacy. But for the first time ever, you chose not to beseech Joel. Instead, you took a deep breath, exhaled, and turned to leave.
You didn't look back as you walked out his door and began the walk to your own house two streets away, wrapping your arms around your waist in an effort to stop yourself shivering from the panic coursing through your body. Your breaths came out ragged and unsteady as fresh tears pooled in your eyes. You promised yourself you'd never let Joel Miller hurt you again.